If Not Epic, Nothing

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A mistake

Of epic, inhuman error

That looks more like betting the house on a whim

Than burning the breakfast toast

As if the gods had prodded

While I, fresh out of faith, felt forced to obey

Lest my heart be finally ripped from me

And my body thrown down the temple stairs

All About Beauty

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Maybe when I’m old, then gone, they’ll talk boldly of me

Paint word pictures of the thought I gave, the care I took

Depict the lines on my face without failing the beauty in them

Knowing I’d want them to tell my whole story of success

All of it, and how, but for them, I’d have failed abjectly

Nevada-California

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Left alone, on an empty grey pier on a lake on high, a warm windstorm making its way through her hair, its force able and willing to carry her away to further aloneness somewhere, and she, sufficiently calm and willing, is nevermore afraid…never more.

Not Humored

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A gorilla behind the wheel

Surely you see the humor

And he’s brilliant, after all

If you’re outside looking in….

…but inside….

Gripping at anything stationary

Having stopped laughing miles and miles ago

You rethink genius, throw a banana in the backseat

And resume your route to the zoo

The Lengthening

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What puts me on edge about Spring is it makes no promises and refuses all requests.

Without notice, it could choose the craze of a Summer heat.

The best case scenario -such bravery in risking my lust.

Or on a dime, it delivers a confused dose of wintry wrath.

Snow that won’t live to see the weekend, so why-for dear Spring?

But woe be to me should Spring choose a most deviant trickery:

And leave me longing in only the long shadows of a forever Fall.

The Drop

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The drop

Atop the chim-chimney, in evening’s early hours

Slow, slowly down rock, round midnight

Absorbed then disbursed by the skin of the roof before dawn

Why, oh why, can gutters steal you by sunrise

The fall